


Glowing Eyes

by StarsWithHiddenFires



Series: Bandoms Harry Potter AU [2]
Category: Bandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, Glowing Eyes, Josh and Tyler are my BrOTP okay, Josh is super and comes to help, Tyler is freaking out, basically Glowing Eyes, brotp okay, i'm not even really sure what this is, it's not very happy, panic attack so please be careful, unhappy tyler, weird descriptions of stuff sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsWithHiddenFires/pseuds/StarsWithHiddenFires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler's freaking out, and gets a visit from something familiar (but not an old friend no)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But I Would Rather Play A Song For The Eyes To Sing Along

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the second piece of the Hogwarts bandom AU, and they're at Hogwarts (probably around 5/6 year)
> 
> It's not very happy in the beginning, sorry to Tyler and Jish
> 
> But it gets happier (slightly) at the end  
> and there will be a second section to this, that's much happier

All that he could hear was the thump thump thump of his heart,

                The ragged knife cuts of his breathing cutting jaggedly through the air, trying to draw the thick dark air in to his shuddering lungs that couldn’t expand enough for the air,

                An occasional drop-drip-splat of tears that escaped his tightly clamped eyes and ran rampant, freed at last, to fall on his arms or pants,

                And sometimes the wet, gross sound of a sniff exploded around the darkness.

               

 

When he opened his eyes,

All that he could see was black

                The black of his hands and forearms, coated in paint, which looked really dumb and wow why did he think it looked cool everyone said it was cool ~~but no it’s not~~ they’re all telling white-lies because he’s a fragile person who just can’t handle it;

                The black of his skinny jeans, the waistband digging into his stomach now from how he was sitting, the occasional darker splotches from his tears, or the faint shine from a tear-drop that hadn’t yet soaked in to the material;

                The black of his robe that surrounded him, at times comforting, but now stifling;

                The tips of his old old old black shoes, a gift from years ago that he still keeps because they’re practical, don’t have any holes, and his feet haven’t grown anymore

                And of course the black black black room that was like soft velvet—not an original thought, no it wasn’t, he stole that but stealing’s _wrong_ —and it caressed him but no _no_ **nO** it’s suffocating it’s not right it’s too heavy and not in the comforting weight his lungs were shuddering trying to breath and break through the air

                 (What was the trick that Dan or Josh or Will used he couldn’t remember it was something like know you’re actually breathing and picture the air in your lungs or count your breaths or something but his brain was spinning and flying too fast to latch on to any solid thought) 

Far away there was a slight white-gold light seeping through the cracks of the door but it was so far away and it hardly lit anything.

 

 

It was hard to smell anything, with his nose running, and his harsh breaths coming from his mouth

                But sometimes his breathing would calm enough

                And he could smell the soft-home-family-mom-warm-dryer smell of his clothing

                And the harsher smell of the broom-cleaning mixture.

                But then it was gone

               

 

All he could feel was the wetness from his tears (so weak why was he crying he hated crying it was so stupid just stop **_stOP_** **_STOP_** IT)

                The cold air surrounding him, leaking into his bones

                His breath puffing out, strange and humid compared to the dry cold air

                The thumping of the blood through his veins

                The grooves in the smooth worn wood of his wand that he gripped tightly in his hand

                His hands wrapped tightly around his scrunched-up-tight legs as a comforting barrier, keeping things out and holding things in

                His robes, sturdy-comfortable-but-now-not and he’s swimming in them because he’s too lanky and awkward and he’s never grown out of that all-elbows-knees-and-joints stage and his robes are too hot it’s not _comfortable_

                His toes scrunched tightly in his shoes, filling the space in a comforting way that was just _right_ because then there were solid boundaries for his feet and he felt like he was filling up a space and it was _just right_ , but he doesn’t know how to explain it. 

               

 

Now he doesn’t just see the black and faint light (the light’s almost gone now)

                There are faint glowing orbs floating and bobbing about, casting yellow-green-blue-white lights

                They stretch out some on their sides, becoming ovals with points on the two ends, and they’re starting to look familiar but no no no ** _nonO_** not those pleasenopleASE he thought they were gone

                Despite his silent pleadings, the floating forms took on the shapes of eyes, some cat-like, some human-like, some entirely alien looking, but all undeniably eyes.

                His chest filled with terror, and he felt like he was falling falling falling down away from the solid ground and his mind was confused and he didn’t know what was going on he didn’t feel alright he felt very far from being fine and the world was spinning his tears were falling up instead

                of              falling                  down

                 But then the whispers of the eyes flitted around the room and melted the hard-sharp-cold feeling.  The scared feelings disappeared, and he forgot why he had been so afraid.

                They whispered meaningless things that he never could remember after, but the cadence and glow was solid and familiar.

 

 

                Time, feeling, sight, became irrelevant as he listened to the eyes, remaining silent and still for the most part, but sometimes he would sing the eyes songs that he had heard or that he had thought up, the words mostly nonsensical, just bits of tunes

                All that remained was his hearing—the eyes whispering, the sound of his breathing, and his singing sometimes

                At one point he thought he heard a noise coming from across the room.  It might’ve been the door, and it reminded him of a boy—red-yellow-black constantly changing colors everywhere, the feeling of wind on his face, soaring, whooping victory, laughing until he couldn’t breathe  (but not in a bad way, not like how it was before the—), clashing cymbals, cathartic screaming and singing and gangster poetry—

                But then it left and the eyes continued whispering, telling him that’s good, that’s what should happen, he was fine with the eyes, they would help him, it’ll be alright, _really._

                The eyes told him that no one else could help him—why would anyone want to come in to a dark abandoned classroom at night when it was meal-time?  (Other than him, of course, he was in there for _s a f e t y_.)

                Time moved forward in strange increments, the dark causing it to seem meaningless—he could have been sitting there for hours, or minutes, or seconds; there was no way to tell the time.

                His voice weaved feebly around the eyes, snatches of poetry he had written—the eyes sometimes liked it, but when he talked about happy things they shouted nO NONO NO LIGHT NO HAPPINESS so he would go back to the sad things he had written.

                “You will never know what’s under my skin, so won’t you say goodnight so I can say goo—“ his words were cut off by a knocking at the door. His eyes flickered toward the door, but the glowing eyes converged in front of his eyes, seething and churning, hissing out angry words.  His head and hands shook as he looked away from the glowing-churning-hovering glowing eyes.

                “Please pleaseplease just leaavvve” he whisper-shouted at the door. 

                ‘Go, _go_ , you don’t want to be caught and trapped because once you’re in there’s no way out trust me, _trust me_ , (which you shouldn’t do anyways, but I know this for fact).  just GO’ his thoughts seemed louder than the whispering eyes, but just for the moment.

 

 

                The knocking didn’t stop

                It continued on, breaking up the smooth cadence of the glowing eyes’ hissings.

                The door slowly                opened                               

It creaaakeed open

Light blasted into the dark dark dark room

NononoNOo shouted the eyes as they faded like heavydirtysmoke in the brightwhitelight.  A figure’s shadow filtered out some of the actually-not-so-bright light, tilting their head in a concerned way. 

“Tyler?” the figure called out, in a warm-familiar-deep-friend voice.  Tyler couldn’t make out the person’s face, because the light was shining from behind him, but he knew that voice—he had known it since he was eleven. 

A tremulous smiled slowly, slowly, _slowly_ crept-crawled onto his face, and his tense shoulders and forearms _gradually_ loosened.  His shaking and uneven breathing cautiously, CAREFULLY evened out as his best friend in the world quietly, gently walked toward him. 

“Hey,” was all he said as he slowly, _carefully_ crouched down next to the terrified-but-not-too-terrified figure of his friend

Whispers, this time soft, kind, gentle, _soothing_ wrapped around him and surrounded him, slowly permeating through the terrifying, poisonous fog from the previous whispers.


	2. Waiting for Someone to Wake Me from the Dream that I'm in (Always Forever We Remain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The visitors are gone  
> (gonebutnotforgotten)  
> (gone but not without a trace)  
> the battle is won for the day  
> (just keep fighting, just keep going)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well  
> so this is only almost 9 months later  
> (I'm sorry)  
> (if the formatting is weird that is possibly intentional, possibly accidental)  
> The chapter title and summary, and some quotes within the story, are from the son Remain by Mutemath (an absolutely mind-blowing band and song they are amazing)  
> But I hope this is somewhat enjoyable!

These whispers were _good_ and _comforting_ and everything the opposite of the whispers—no no the _H I S S E S_ from the eyes—

                But no, he didn’t want to think of that not  n o w

Push it out of his mind please please please

Let in the warm-sunshine-chocolate-homey feel

The whispers—soothing ones, comforting ones, warm-blanket-but-not-suffocating-heat, the happiness lit by a fire and friends and cheer, the caress of a silk ribbon over his cheekbones—wrapped around him, cushioning his bony-lanky-sharp-edged frame

His shoulders gradually inched down from barricading his ears (not like it had done much no, it just was a _semblance_ of protection)

A warm, calloused hand rubbed over his shoulder

                And it gradually pulled him away from his corner he was wedged in

                The hand became two arms that wrapped around his frame in a comforting embrace

                Followed by a head that rested on his shoulder

                So his head turned into the warm crook of his friend’s neck

                As his body slowly thawed from being frozen

                And began to shake slightly as it defrosted

(the dripdripdrip of the tears turned into the dripdropdrip of the frost melting from his tired-heavy-bones held together by fright)

(the dripdropdrips fell and flowers grew upupuP beaking the soliddarkheaviness into shards sharp enough to cut but no because the flowers grewbloomed _flowered_ and cushioned the edges with softbrightvibrant colors)

(like the colorexplosion-giggle-grassinspired boy next to the silentsnifflingsad boy)

(the fright turned into golden thread from the person next to him, that soft happy-squint-strong-safe friend)

 

The shaking morphed into small sobs that gently rocked Tyler’s bony frame

                But this time the shaking was _good_ , a _washing_ away of pain and darkness

(can you

Wash me

Can you

Drown me)

(please)

Josh quietly whispered comforting things and rubbed circles and patterns over his back.   A while passed, and Tyler began to sniffle again, this time with less sadness.

 

He wrapped his arms around his friend in a hug in return, his body slumping into his friend as he felt the tight shaking-nervous-twitchy-distraught energy melt away with the embrace—the holding-together-of-his-skeleton-bone-edges and the mending-of-his-soulheartmind—being replaced by happier-golden-sweet-sweaterafterthedryer feeling.

                The two of them sat there for a while in silence—but the good kind, the friends-that-understand-everything-so-no-word-is-needed sort, not the violent quiet—Tyler completely drained of all energy from his emotional show.  They both were comfortable in the dark quietness, safe in the knowledge that there was no need to fill the silence. 

                After a time, Tyler had to shift his legs since they were tingling uncomfortably. 

(white-black-dots-static filling up his brain with complacent numbness but also tears-of-gasoline-making-his-facebodyclothes ready to go  u p  i n  f L A M E S)

_(I will set my soul on f i r e what have I be c o m e)_

(nonnononono please anything anYTHING but thaT THAT CADENCE OF the eYES plea SE NO THEY SHOULD BE GONE-BANISHED-EXPELLED)

 He felt his face heat up slightly—his _stupid_ body and its _stupid_ tendency to make everything messed upmesSSED UP everything bad baDBAD the EYES  were bACK not seEN BUT THERE

(you DON’T SEE THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED OR IN YOUR H E A D BUT IT IS THERE _THERE **THERE**_ YOU DO NOT DOUBT IT THAT IS THE ONE THING YOU KNOW THE ONE CON S T AN T)

 like now his feet felt like they were oN FIRE (liKE hoW  h IS  HAL F-HE A VYD IRT Y  SO UL SH OUL D  B E,  SE T  IT  O N  FI RE) and he couldn’t do anything about it why why _whY HE WASN’T A REDGOLDLION NONO HE WAS A CO W ARD—_

                His thoughts were cut off by Josh’s hands rubbing his back comfortingly

(smoothing over the bumps b u mp s in his spine those dinosaur-spine-nobs that were hills for poets to discover)

(smoothing over his wrinklingworryingharried soul and emotions) 

 

“Hey Ty, it’s okay.  Bodies often don’t work out how one wants them to, but it’s alright, it’s okay-good-fine.  I’m here and I’m not moving.” Josh continued to murmur quiet comforts to the shaking, bonyskinnyangles-flesh-and-bones boy next to him.  They sat there for a while in companionship, gentle whispers the only sound. 

 

No more was the darkness filled with whisperhatepain arrows

                (no, the eyes had gone, they had loosened their last batch of those arrows into the back of the star-fire-grin-heartbeat boy but he could take it yes for his star-night-shadow-storm-bone friend he would do anything)

The two gradually broke gravity-and-the-cobwebs-of-painsorrowhurt’s holds on them and rose, no longer weakbeatendown but shiningshakystrong, new-born and determined

(they wobbled some but that was okay)

(okay)  
(they were remaining)

_(forever we remain)_

_(just keep b r e a t h i n g  just keep holding just keep b e l i e v i n g)_

(holding on to each other because it’s all that you have and all that you needrequiredesire)

(they shook and bent but didn’t break because they werearewillbe st r o n g and united)

~~(together we’re losers, remember the future)~~

 

The fire-vibrant-day boy and the star-shadow-night boy held each other up

(they always had)  
(always would)

                and slowly heaved their way through the notasthicknotasevil darkness to the light of the door

(hopehoPEHOPE)

_(there’s hope out the window, so that’s where we’ll go)_

_(windows open now make a  s o u n d)_

                to where warmyellowlights lit the way back to the warmyellowblack dorms

(the fire-alien-space boy wasn’t going to let his star-skeleton-flower friend be alone no no he would be there to comfort his friend)

(on the way, if the shorter-solidrock-fire boy slipped the taller-mistyghost-star friend a sandwich that was a secret kept between the two soulpainters-expressers-friends and the paintings on the wall—the portraits just kindlysmiled-winked-whispered, promising to keep the secrets hidden)

 

(the two would go to bed and dream of birds breaking from cages and driving towards the morning sun,son and showering redwhitetears-but-happy-tears and drumbeats that were home until the night was dead and they could rise up and try again)

 

(they were two broken soul-painter-expresser-catharsis-portrayers that had a lot of problems and were going through badhardimpossible-stuFF)

(but together they were ~~losers~~ winners)

(more nights would come)

(more demons would advance and conquer-butnO NONO not coNQUER)

(they would try again)

(they would get through the trials when they came)

(they ~~were~~ would be okay)

(okay)

(really)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no posting schedule whatsoever  
> But I hope this was a satisfactoryish wrap up?  
> \--I have nO clue as to when I'll update the Eyes Full of Crystal Lakes and Mountains Town sorry  ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ --  
> Feel free to comment, or not! Whatever floats your boat *snappy-finger-gun-pointy-thing* (off-topicness and on-topicness are both equally welcome)  
> I hope life is going swell for you people
> 
> Stay Street  
> and  
> Stay Alive |-/

**Author's Note:**

> any and all comments, questions, concerns, rants, whatever are welcome, come one come all  
> jk but really, feel free to comment or whatever  
> it doesn't even have to be about this, idek guys  
>  ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy  
> Stay Alive  
> and  
> Stay Street |-/


End file.
